


garbage please do not read

by jjangmei



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:21:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29171796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjangmei/pseuds/jjangmei
Summary: this is only uploaded because im paranoid about losing it in google docs. this is literally only for me please just keep scrolling
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

“Nysa! We must go! The temple must be abandoned!” 

“No! No, I won’t leave them!” 

“The dragons can fight their own battle Nysa, you must go! Now!”

Nysa shakes her arms free of the Fire Sages and runs anyway, not looking back at the sage that calls after her. She moves forward with a single minded determination, lungs burning in the ash filled air, towards the roar of dragons and men alike. 

The great stair is full of soldiers, Fire Nation armor donning them as Sozin’s comet rages above. Two dragons, the very last two, soar through the grey air, brilliant red and blue swirling together as they fight the soldiers that throw blast after blast at them. 

Shaw cries in agony, his mighty roar shaking the very earth, and Nysa screams as she sees the tri-bladed harpoon stuck through the great bender’s tail. 

Nysa can hear nothing over his cries and the enraged screech of Ran as she dives to her twin. Nysa pulls her twin blades from the holster at the back of her waist, spinning them in her hands as she slices them across the back of the first soldier in her path. 

The soldiers, too concerned with trying to grab hold of the chains holding the Great Red Dragon tethered, don’t notice her until it’s too late and her blades or her flames have already finished their lethal dance across them. 

Halfway up the stair Nysa’s shoulders burn and her body aches, the fight before this one was long and already she aches with the pain of wounds sustained but still she fights, tears gathering in fury and desperation as she kicks and shoves and fights her way through her enemy. 

“Get that girl! She’s trying to free the dragons!” 

The call is behind her and Nysa breathes deep, hands hitting the earth, the metal loops of her blades held fast in the crook of her thumbs as she spins on her palms, fire roaring from the bared soles of her feet as she launches soldiers to their death below with flames sticking to their skin. 

Her teeth grit as she flips, pushing off her palms to bring her legs around the neck of another soldier, using the momentum of his Fire Fist to swing him into those climbing behind her and knocking them back a solid ways, some screaming as they cling to the ledge of the stair. 

Flames consume the space she occupied but she cuts through them with a breath and a flash of her swords, knocking two soldiers back in a slice, blood splashing across her cheeks and chest as she launches forward. 

She spins her blades again and leans low, foot flying high into the chin of a soldier and pulling back at the knee to quickly launch another blast after he falls. She’s nearly to the top now, no pain felt as fire dances in her veins. 

Another harpoon is launched and Ran catches it with her jaws, pulling free the tank it shot from and throwing it over the walls of the temple. Shaw cries out again and the sound is enough for a soldier to land a hit, Nysa cries out as a blade slices her abdomen below her cropped shirt. Red seeps into the top of her pants and already it’s fast spreading to soak her entire pant leg, clinging to her body as she knocks the soldier away with a well timed kick, ankle connecting with his neck below his helmet and launching him well off the very top of the platform as she reaches it. 

Fire blows past her and her skin tingles as it glances off. Ran knows who she is, has trained her these past four years, and the fire is merely heat and color on Nysa’s skin. She throws a glance at the Great Blue Dragon and bows her head, a moment of thanks before she runs, her own fire shooting from her soles to give her a boost as she lets out a battle cry, throwing every ounce of the fire within her into her blades and her body as she cuts down the Fire Nation army that has invaded her home. 

The chain that holds fast to Shaw is thick, nearly as thick as her arm, and at the first hit Nysa’s blades barely scratch it. Another and another and another. A nick is former and she throws her weight and the whole of her spirit into it as she brings her blades down again and again. 

Fire hits her back and this time she cries out, clenching her teeth as she sees the soldiers gathering anew behind her. She jumps, uses another blow against the chains as leverage and spins in a barrel roll, fire shooting from her soles big enough to be called a comet itself as she flips over the chains. 

Heat gathers in her hands and her blades seem to glow gold as she brings them down again. The chain is halfway through, a little more and Shaw will be free. 

Nysa gasps and can barely process the sight of the arrow sticking out of her shoulder before she turns and removes the hand from the soldier about to strike her down, his blade clattering to the floor. Another burst of dragon fire and Shaw cries out, Nysa’s ears ringing with it as she pulls the arrow from her body before and bites back a scream. 

Her blades glance off the metal but a few more blows should do it. She barely dodges the fire at her back and it scorches her leg as she flips back over it, landing on armored shoulders and putting her ankle over where her knee is hooked and using all her body weight to flip the soldier over her head and then his own. 

She rises from her crouch with both blades pointed up, blood spraying hot and wet across her skin as another body hits the platform. She spins and her arms ache with the force she puts into the blow, the chain finally snapping. 

Shaw roars, his body swirling with his twin’s as they rise into the sky, still fighting the soldiers that litter the temple. 

Nysa feels relief flood her and she lets her guard down a moment too long. The wet shulk of the sword as it plunges through her, it’s metal gleaming as it pushes through just above her navel, is barely heard over the ringing in her ears. 

It feels like the world falls silent around her, all she can hear is her own gasping breath and the clatter of her swords hitting the ground. Her hands tremble as they come to touch the metal gleaming from inside of her and she rubs her fingers together as they come away, wet and sticky and red. 

There’s pressure on her shoulder for a moment, a foot in her peripheral, and then horrible, agonizing pain as the blade is pulled from her. 

Nysa’s voice is broken, her hands coming to press on the spot that is quickly draining all the warmth from her body. Pain seeps through her and it burns in an unfamiliar way, hotter than any flame she has ever felt. It fills her and she tries to breathe through it but blood bubbles on her lips and it trails down her chin. 

She feels it as it soaks her shirt and sees it pool below, so much red spreading from where she’s been brought to her knees. 

Two great roars pulls her eyes up and finally a tear falls, the corner of her lips tugging up as Nysa spots the last to Great Dragons as they fly free above her. The last thing she sees are their eyes, gold like the sun itself, coming towards her through a great wall of dragon fire. 

Hours pass and the air is still. The ash has settled, Sozin’s comet has passed and the Phoenix Lord is defeated. A newly realized avatar stands in the dawn of a new world, and a single body lies at the top of the stairway of the Dragon Temple. 

Two great bodies, blue and red in turn, stand on either side. The body, a young firebender with golden skin and raven hair, lies still. Blood drained from a hole in her middle and the corners of her lips quirked in peace. Dragons are not known to be sentimental creatures but they are regal and loyal in nature. If not for physical form, this young bender before them could very well have been a Dragon herself. 

She’d fought with all the ferocity of a dragon. Blades wielded like talons and fire as an extension of her spirit. She’d cut down over a hundred and still she’d fought, the light of the sun in her eyes and her teeth bared. 

The trickle of footsteps back to the temple was uncared for by the dragons as they stood over the fallen form before them. A cry of grief though, was heard. One that echoed from one voice to another as the sages entered their courtyard, as the people of the temple protected by dragons came to see the broken body before them. 

The near ashen remains of soldiers were kicked haphazardly from the stairs as the sages ran for the girl but the life had left her already. Her body was cold and her spirit barely between the worlds, not yet passed but no longer tied to this world she had given her life for. 

The stillness of the dragons gave barely a halt to the sages as they knelt before Nysa’s body. Not even their own great healing would save her. All life had left her and not even the Avatar themself could bring her soul back to their world. 

She had been taken in by the sages, afraid of her own flames and broken in spirit. They had trained her, taught her, raised her as their own for four years. She’d gone from a scrappy girl, nearly broken by the war and the world, to the greatest warrior they had seen. The Great Dragons themselves had trained her and she’d danced with them, eyes ablaze as if the fire that burned in them filled her spirit as well. 

And now here she lay, their great warrior struck down, wounds littering her body. Jizai, the head sage, did not hold back his tears as he took her swords from the ground beside her and placed them in her hands, crossing her arms over her chest as he lay her in reverence, head touching the floor before her in the deepest show of respect. His daughter, for all purposes, dead before him. 

His eyes though were brought wide as the dragons lifted their heads and roared, a sorrowful and strong sound that shook the earth below him. He dared not lift his head as he felt the heat of dragon fire before him. 

If anyone asked what happened that day they would be met with all a different tale of what happened to Nysa Dragon-Daughter, her title and story coming to mark the halls of the temple for hundreds of years to come. And they all held some truth in them, but the one who knew was only the Great Sage himself.  
When he raised his head that day, as the wind beat around him and the dragon fire, in all it’s colorful splendor faded, he was blessed with a sight that brought him peace to his last moments. Shining white like the hottest flame, between the two greatest dragons Ran and Shaw, was the spirit of a warrior and as the great dragons lifted off, their wings beating like a hurricane, she was guided to the sun, into the very heart of the flame, where she would be reborn again to become herself, a Dragon.


	2. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End

Waking up in a forest isn’t anything new for Nysa. At least it doesn’t feel that way. But the more she tries to think on it as she sits up on the lush green earth, she finds she can’t really remember why. In fact, she can’t really remember anything other than her name and her age. Her name is Nysa, she’s 20 last spring, and she’s a fire bender. Thinking past that starts a pounding in her head and it only grows the longer she tries to push past it. Suffice to say that she decides to give up for now and instead try and figure out where she is and possibly even why. 

Nysa quickly takes stock of herself as she stands and is glad her clothes are comfy at the very least. Her pants sit low on her hips and tie with a drawstring in the front. They’re just baggy enough on the sides that her legs don’t feel restricted and they’re cinched in crossing ties over her calves that are just visible above her shoes. They’re the same rusty red color but her shoes are curved into a point at the toe and the bottom and seams are trimmed in gold. 

Her shirt is form fitting and a mildly brighter red than her pants, stopping just above her navel where the bottom of a rather jagged scar trials down from under her shirt. It has no sleeves but goes over the dip of her shoulders about two fingers wide and collars just below her clavicles. It’s just as comfortable and moveable as the pants. 

Nysa’s back aches as she stretches, bend back until a series of cracks goes up her spine and bending forward to clasp her hands around her ankles, twisting her torso back and worth a few times for good measure and being rewarded with a satisfying pop in her lower back. 

She also glances more red behind her and turns to pick it up, a new sense of familiarity washing over her as she holds a cloak in front of her. It’s the same lightweight, red material as the rest of her clothes but instead of any fastening in the front, one side of the shoulder has a long scarf-like piece of fabric hanging from it with a word at the very end stitched in the same gold that borders her shoes and the edges of her cloak. 

It’s with muscle memory that she folds the shoulders of the cloak over her hips and weaves it over itself to blanket down the outsides of her thighs so it doesn’t restrict her movement. She tucks the ends up back over her hips and pulls the long piece around below the last fold once before pulling the end of it out to fall right below her navel to just above her knees. 

Beside the cloak she picks up the twin blades that sit in a holster, one handle from either side, and situates it at the small of her back, making sure the belting is under her cloak turned sash and the swords are secure before she starts to walk towards the sound of a small river. 

Nysa tries to find something familiar as she walks, a small flowing river, barely more than a stream honestly, to her right. But nothing jogs even the slightest bit of memory. The sun has moved from its peak in the sky to settle just above the horizon, or it had the last time she climbed a tree to spot it. It the dusk just before darkness settles in and the sounds of life have started to make their way above the near silence of the forest and Nysa feels her stomach clench as she starts to hear what must be a village of some sort ahead. 

Quickly she pulls the cloak from her hips and wraps it around her shoulders, tucking the scarf end around her once before letting the end rest over her left shoulder, the word ‘Sun’ in gold letting just over her heart. She doesn’t bother with the hood but takes another breath of trepidation as she finally steps onto some semblance of a road. 

Bilbo Baggins is a respectable hobbit. And like any other respectable hobbit, he welcomes his fair bit of company. He does, however, like to know that company is coming before it does in fact arrive. It is for this precise reason that he scowls when a knock comes at his door as he’s just sat down for a fresh cup of chamomile tea in his den. 

Bilbo tuts about for a moment, wrapping his patchwork housecoat around himself as he mutters his way to the door. 

He expects to find perhaps a drunken hobbit who’s lost their way home, or perhaps even Lobelia Sackville Baggins herself come to invite herself in and try and steal his candlesticks. What he most certainly does not expect on the other side of his door is one of the Big Folk. A woman no less, dressed in odd red fabrics with an odd gold symbol, and odd pointy shoes. But again, he is a respectable hobbit and no respectable hobbit will turn away a guest without at least first finding out their business. 

“Hel- Hello there. May I help you?” Bilbo clears his throat and frowns slightly at the confused expression on the woman’s face as she surveys him for a long moment before answering, her voice slow and her accent something so new it leaves Bilbo floundering for quite a moment. 

“Can you tell me where I am?” 

It is quite strange that’s for certain, the odd clothes she wears and the odd way she speaks, but Bilbo will not have rumor spread that he is impolite and so he pulls his best attempt at a smile and nods. 

“You’re in the Shire, just north of Hobbiton. Bag End in fact. And if you should like to know, just west of Bree.” 

The woman - perhaps girl may be more accurate for there’s youth in her face that betrays the age in her eyes - frowns and stands up full, her head coming just below the top of Bilbo’s lovely green door, and looks over the roads before them, her brows seeming to furrow with distress. 

“Are you looking for somewhere in particular? I’m quite good with a map myself, I may just be able to help you find it!” Bilbo offers with a smile but it grows smaller as the girl’s brows just furrow more. She seems to sigh, more a resigned exhale if anything, before she turns back to Bilbo. 

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere. I think I’m just lost.” 

Bilbo frowns at that, and he’s quite right to. How on earth can someone be lost if they aren’t going anywhere in particular anyway? It’s quite confuddling if not more confounding than that. 

“Then perhaps home then? If you aren’t going anywhere, and you want to be un-lost, I believe home is the best way to make it so.” Bilbo nods, quite happy with his conclusion, and also no small part of him hoping to get back to his tea. It is nearly fully dark out and if he doesn’t finish his tea soon then tea time will run right into supper and won’t that just be a disaster? 

He’s just about to farewell her on her way too but accursed hobbit hearing has him stopping cold in his tracks, his mood for tea quite utterly ruined. 

“I don’t think I have a home,” her voice is soft, and she’s looking back out over the shire with a kind of sadness in her eyes Bilbo himself is quite unfamiliar with outside the pages of one of his many books. It’s certainly not meant to be heard by him but it seems to carry on the wind and right into his stubborn heart. 

Perhaps it makes sense. That this odd-spoken, odd-clothed, odd-girl does not have a home in such a world as un-odd as Bilbo’s. But sense does no substitute for sadness nor kindness and it is with that very sense of kindness that Bilbo widens his door and gestures the girl inside. 

“Well, if you have no home then I would extend an offer to share mine with you until you find one. Or at the very least until the morning. I’ll not let it be said that Bilbo Baggins of Bag End turned away a lost, homeless girl, Big Folk or not.” the hobbit nods, quite sure of himself as he makes his way inside, the door open for her to follow, so he can pour another cup of tea. 

The door closes gently just as he reaches the kitchen and Bilbo glances over his shoulder, watching as the girl stands awkwardly in the hall before spotting him and moving hesitantly his way. 

“You can go ahead and take a seat in the dining room. It’s nearly time for supper anyway and I’ve got plenty enough to share.” 

She smiles, just the corner of her mouth, but it’s enough to show her gratitude. But then she bows her head to him and clasps a fist in front of her, her other hand coming to press her flattened palm against it before she raises her head. 

“Thank you, Bilbo Baggins, for sharing your home.” 

As polite as hobbits are, Bilbo has certainly never been bowed to so sincerely and if he splutters around his welcomes and his ears flush with the rest of his face there is not a single hobbit who can prove it. 

He busies himself pouring a second glass of chamomile and blinks in his journey to the dining room at the girl’s pointy shoes that lie just inside the door, hardly a trace of mud on them. She must have kicked them off outside. Hobbits, not being the shoe wearing sort, would hardly have the thought but for Big Folk it must be quite a polite thing to do, at least when entering a hobbit hole, and Bilbo thinks to himself that despite her oddities, this girl really is quite polite, and maybe not so bad. 

The girl is indeed sitting at the table, though surely it must be quite the fit as her legs seem to be stretched out under the table to spare her knees. But she doesn’t look uncomfortable and she dips her head again, though this time much shallower, with thanks as she accepts the tea from him. 

Once he’s retrieved his own from the den, he joins her and they sit in an drawn silence as they both take their first few slow sips. 

“So uh…” 

“Nysa,”

“N-Neesuh,” the name is odd on Bilbo’s tongue and he looks to her as he tries it, quite proud to have seemingly gotten it correct if her small grin is to be the judge. 

“Right, Nysa. How is it that you came to be lost but not going anywhere wandering around the Shire so near nightfall?” 

Nysa frowns and sets her teacup on the table, her thumb caressing the side as she looks down into the warm brown liquid. 

“I don’t know….” she pauses and glances at him, her brows furrowed again but he nods and takes another sip, let’s her take her time to continue. 

“I woke up in the woods just north of here. I was lying on the grass with nothing and no one around me and all I can remember is my name and how old I am. I started walking along a stream around midday and yours was the first door I saw so I knocked.” 

Nysa’s frown grew as she spoke and Bilbo’s did as well. Waking up lost in the woods with no memories? It’s not everyday that happens. And the poor girl looked quite distraught by it, though Bilbo supposes anyone would be in that position. 

“And how old are you?” he’s wondered it a good moment and now seems the time to ask. 

“Twenty-two last spring.” 

Bilbo gawks for a moment. He can’t help it. He knows the Big Folk age somewhat differently but it can’t be too different and twenty-two! If she were a hobbit she wouldn’t even be of age! She must barely be it as a Big Folk! Alone and lost! Why the very thought was outrageous. 

“Well, you are welcome to stay with me as long as you’d like Nysa. Quite frankly this smial is too big for one lonely hobbit and by my good conscience I can’t send you back into the world with no memories or- or anything!” 

Nysa smiles again but this time there are tears welled in her eyes and again she bows her head as she thanks him. 

And later that very night, as Bilbo Baggins of Bag End finds himself lying quite comfortably in his bed, he ponders the circumstances of his new house quest, sound asleep and seemingly quite exhausted from her day of walking and quite possibly the emotional jolt of having no memories since before that morning, and he thinks that this seems to be quite an odd adventure he has ahead of him. If only he knew of the real adventure that would take place in just a couple short months time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days seem to pass quickly for Bilbo and his new housemate. They are no closer to figuring out just how Nysa came to awake that day in the forest but aside from the small fire incident her second day there, they had gotten along quite well and without any troubles. In fact, Bilbo had found himself growing rather fond of the girl. She was polite, clean, and above all kind. Though she hid it quite well under her rather quiet and blank-faced exterior, if you looked closely or even just paid attention at all to her actions instead of her lack of words, she was incredibly kind. 

But ah yes, the fire incident. Bilbo had been quite shocked the morning after her arrival when he had gone to light the fire for second breakfast - as she had slept quite through first - she had offered to do it for him and with a flick of her finger, fire had sprung forth from her very skin and into his hearth. 

Bilbo’s yelp of shock had not been a small one and they had discovered one very important thing. Nysa was much farther from home than either of them had expected because, as Bilbo put it quite plainly, there had never been and currently was no such thing as a ‘fire bender’ in middle earth. 

And, as she said quite plainly back to him, she was quite sure that no matter where she was from, she’d never heard of a hobbit. Not a dwarf or even an elf for that matter. It had been a bit of a sullen moment after that until she showed Bilbo that she could reheat tea with barely a breath and he had delighted in the newly discovered magics - despite her insistence it was not magic but ‘bending’ - of his housemate. 

Nysa herself had seemed to grow quite comfortable in Bag End. Bilbo given her a bit of coin after seeing how scant her clothes were and - with quite a bit of blushing on his end as well as the poor girl didn’t seem to understand that she was in any kind of state of undress and insisted that she be allowed to dress comfortably in the clothes of her home - he had sent her off to Bree with a finely drawn map to purchase at least the material to make a new set of clothes that showed a little less skin. 

Nysa had agreed on the condition that she could make them layered and when home at the very least be allowed to wear whatever she found most comfortable. Bilbo had agreed and now she had two more outfits and some sleep clothes. Both quite similar to the first but with quite a bit of foldy bits that Bilbo himself could make no sense of but when assembled in the odd fashion that Nysa wore her very layered clothing, did in fact look quite good. She had even made him a pair of sleep pants that were fashioned quite like her own, all billowy in the leg but cinched at the ankle and waist. And Bilbo found in fact that they were quite comfy. 

As the weeks passed Nysa had even met some of the other hobbits, mostly children as they were the only ones brave and unjudgy enough to say hi to a Big Folk, and on more afternoons than not Bilbo would catch glimpses of her carrying them on her arms, held wide beside her as the little ones laughed and giggled and generally climbed all over her. 

She’d also developed the habit of wandering to the North Farthing Woods most days. She would hunt - when she had shown Bilbo the twin swords she had woken with and discovered herself to be more than quite skilled with he had nearly fainted - and lay odd traps and train - for what? Bilbo hadn’t the foggiest, but she’d said it felt right and sometimes tickled the idea of a memory so he didn’t fuss. 

But Bilbo would also see her face when she came back, the sadness so clear in her eyes. He knew what she was really looking for was a clue. Some trace of how she’d gotten there or some small piece of her past. But he said nothing and would instead have a warm cup of tea for her waiting and always something new to tell her of this world she had woken up in. A story from one of his books, a passing tale from a traveler, basic history even. She seemed to enjoy it all with that small, corner of the mouth smile on her face. It was a peaceful and good life and Bilbo was glad to have his new friend in it.


	3. Nysa's Dream and the Decision she must make

Nysa hasn’t had many dreams since waking up that day in the North Farthing Woods as she had come to know them. Sometimes when she woke up she felt she may have had one, some blurred image in the back of her mind fading too quickly for her to catch it, but certainly nothing as vivid as this. It barely even felt like dreaming. 

She was standing at the top of a staircase on some kind of platform that stretched out on either side of her into two tunnels and for some reason it felt so oddly familiar. Like an ache in her chest that wouldn’t go away. 

The wind felt strange where she stood. As if it rushed out from the tunnels and twisted around her. That ache in her chest seemed to drop and turn to a pull in her gut, like a rope had been pulled from inside her and it was leading her to look closer. 

Nysa had barely taken a step towards the tunnel on her left when the wooshing of the air increased and suddenly great gusts of wind surrounded her and before she could blink there were golden eyes headed straight for her followed by a massive blue body. Somewhere in her mind she heard a name. 

Ran

From behind her game another great gust and this time a red figure, with the same golden eyes. 

Shaw

The two dragons circled her and caught between two shuddering roars, in front of her came a massive tunnel of fire. Fire of every color imaginable and it swirled around her like whirlpool, so beautiful, so breathtaking, she felt like she’d lost the ability to breathe. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” 

Nysa gasped and her eyes shot back down and somehow she knew the woman before her.   
“Mother?’ Nysa’s voice trembled and the face of her mother smiled back, bathed in warm blue light. 

“Yes, in a way. I am not Filah from the Earth Kingdom. But I am the mother of all Fire Benders. I have taken and will take many forms. For you, I have taken the form of your human mother.” 

“But, why? Where am I? And why am I here? How can I know my mother’s face if I don’t remember anything?” 

“Don’t worry child, you will remember in time. I have not taken your memories from you, only stored them out of sight until you found a home in your new world. To hopefully lessen the pain of leaving this one.” 

Filah’s lips frowned and her eyes became sad. 

“Leaving?” 

“You, Nysa, are here because I owe you a great debt. Ever since the joining of Raava and the dissonance between the human world and the spirit, I have had no physical form to take. I am unable to protect my children and it pained me greatly to see what pain was caused in this world by those who wield a gift I myself gave. But you saved someone precious of mine.” 

Nysa gasps as the colorful fires cease and Ran and Shaw come to stand beside her, their heads bowed to the Mother.

“You gave your life freely for a spirit, turned your back on the chance of safety and died in this very spot. For that, words are not thanks enough. I have many children in many worlds, and in one such world I believe your bravery may be needed. And if not needed, then surely it is wished for.” 

Nysa can barely comprehend what’s happening as Mother waves her hand, the Sun Warrior’s temple around them flickering like a flame in wind before the world changes and suddenly Nysa is gasping as she plummets through the air for a split moment before she feels warmth below her hands. Smooth red scales flex beneath her fingers and Shaw rumbles below her as they fly high above a lake that lies before a mountain. 

To their left is Mother, astride Ran with a troubled look on her face. Nysa looks below them and the air is torn from her lungs. 

A dragon, though he does not look the same as Ran and Shaw, tears through a city. Flames shine off the water and screams rise to reach her ears above the hurricane of his movement. Nysa brings a hand to her mouth, eyes wide in horror. 

“Smaug too, is one of my children. Though from a world much different than yours. But he has been corrupted. He was once regal and stood watch over the Northern Skies. In time though, a great evil was born in this world and from it seeped darkness. Darkness enough to poison the heart of Smaug and give him a need for gold so great he no longer remembers who he is. He no longer remembers the face of his mother.” 

The sadness that seeps into Mother’s voice makes Nysa’s heart ache and she turns her eyes from the dragon that now forces his way into a mountain, hundreds of people fleeing from inside and the smell of blood and ash so strong it makes Nysa wince. 

The world flickers and once again changes. They are once again at the temple of the Sun Warriors and a sense of relief and home hits Nysa as she slides from Shaw’s back, bowing her head in thanks as she goes back to stand before Mother. 

“Nysa. I would ask that you save another of my sons. His life, unfortunately, I do not believe can be spared for the terrible things he has done. But I wish his spirit returned to me, the spirit of a young dragon who once loved his mother and protected the lands around him. To see him suffer in darkness for eternity, after life has poisoned him so, would pain me greatly.”

Mother approaches Nysa now, her face drawn and sad as she takes the young girl’s hands in her own. 

“It is a great deal to ask, and I do not ask it lightly. Whether you succeed or fail you will not be taken from that world by hand, and should you accept I will give you gifts to aid in your success, but the choice is yours. Will you stay in Middle Earth and try to save the spirit of my son, or shall I let you rest, move on to the spirit realm of this world and pass into the light?” 

Nysa takes a shuddering breath and her eyes flicker to Ran and Shaw, to the temple behind them where she spent so many years, and finally to the being before her. 

“Can I- Can I think about it? Please? Just...for a little while?” 

Mother’s smile was gentle as she raised a hand to Nysa’s cheek. 

“Of course. When your decision is made, I will return in your sleep. Until then, I think it’s about time you got these back.” 

The last thing Nysa sees before the world is consumed in the rainbows of dragon fire is Mother’s smiling face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Nysa wakes, it’s to Bilbo Baggin’s himself sitting by her bed, well makeshift bed of two mattresses and quite an amount of blankets and pillows arranged on the floor, with his nose stuck in a book and a cooled glass of tea on the window sill. 

Nysa can’t help the tears that spring from her eyes at the sight of him, this kind hobbit who took a strange girl into his home, and on her first sniffle his head is whipping to her, eyes wide and mouth smacking - empty of words for once. 

“I remember Bilbo, I remember who I am.” and then she descends into sobs. 

It takes Bilbo about half a minute of wide-eyed shock before he abandons his book so he can reach a hand out to pat her head as she scoots closer until her head is against his knee and he can pet through her short hair comfortingly. 

“Well, let’s hear it then. Where is the great fire-bending Nysa from?”   
And so she tells him. Everything. From the 100 year war, to the death of her family, being rescued by and subsequently joining the Freedom Fighters, leaving, being taken in by the Sun Warriors. Everything until the day she died and then woke up here. She even shows him the scars on either side of her body she’d previously wondered about and seeing the jagged line of where a sword had plunged into her and been ripped out Bilbo himself breaks into sobs and hugs Nysa as close as he possibly can. 

Then she tells him about her dream. About the Fire mother who wore her mother’s face and pretty much everything except the part where she was asked to save the spirit of a Dragon that very much had been poisoned by evil and killed people without remorse. 

It’s at that point that Bilbo decides they both need some Elevenses and as they make their way to the kitchen he tells her that she’s been asleep for three whole days. 

“I’m quite serious Nysa, you must never scare me like that again! I thought you’d come down with some big folk sickness! We hobbits are not quite so prone to illness and I’ve had Camelia Thornburrow ‘round here twice a day since the first afternoon passed that you didn’t wake! All I said was to see if you could be ill and of course all she wants to ask about is why I’ve got one of the big folk laid out in her own room! As if gossip hasn’t spread ‘round the Shire about you weeks ago! Everyone knows you live here! If for no reason other than the mothers of all those young ones you hang around with - oh don’t give me that look, I’ve seen you playing with them and carrying them about and the like down by the stream, you can’t deny it- oh would you get the hearth? - and anyway all those women are such gossips! Don’t even get me started on Pervinca Longriver and her big mouth-” 

Nysa smiles softly to herself as Bilbo goes on about the gossip mill of the Shire and blows a flame into the hearth as he talks right into the pantry for some thick bacon and talks right back out. 

She knows he must be processing everything she told him, hell so is she, but she smiles with a fondness she knows is going to make this decision so much harder. She hasn’t told him she has the choice to leave, to accept her death and move on, and looking at him now as he bustles about, thanking her for the fire between his own version of grumbling gossip, she feels that same tug in her gut she felt in her dream, the one that pulled her towards Shaw and the memories that came with him. 

And so the evening passes. A hobbit and a human in a smial in the Shire in the great big land of Middle Earth with no idea what would come knocking at their door soon enough.


	4. The Appearance of a Wizard and more than a few Dwarves

The breeze of the North Farthing woods is a comforting one, carrying with it the scent the river and the Shire it runs through. Nysa had started coming to the woods in search of clues on how she came to wake up that morning now nearly two months ago. 

Since receiving her answer to that question she’d kept up the habit. It was a good place for hunting and an even better place to practice her fire bending. There’s not exactly anywhere in the Shire to do it and Bilbo would have grounded in the garden pulling weeds if she set another of his blackberry bushes on fire. 

There were also no prying eyes of hobbits or their curious children. So Nysa set down her swords by the river and took off her cloak as well from where it rested around her hips. The muscle memory had helped her before her memories came back but now that she had them, she remembered the full training with the other Sun Warriors and she made sure she kept to it. Whether she chose to stay here or not - the decision weighed heavily on her mind - she liked the routine of it and could barely fall asleep from the sedentary life her hobbit friend tried to convince her to join. 

Instead she went through her warm ups. Meditation with Tai Chi was always taught to be important to maintaining control of the fire within yourself and the fire you extend from yourself and Nysa found herself going through the movements with practiced ease. 

After that she did more practical training. Went through the movements and skill with precision and judged herself with the voices of the sages in her mind. Her fire daggers needed more concentration, her fire whip a more centered mind for a more centered flame. She spent the whole day training, something in her, that same gut feeling she’d been getting recently that told her to push harder, train longer, do better. If she was better she wouldn’t have died. 

Nysa felt sudden anger bubble within her and her controlled firejab grew quickly, the tree before her riddled with scorches shuddering as a hole was blasted through it. She yelled in frustration and followed the jab with a punch, knuckles white against the bark as she thought of the Fire Mother’s offer. 

The offer to pass on was right there but that anger in her chest had hold. It wasn’t fair that she’d died. After a life spent fighting a war that she was born into it wasn’t fair!

The anger burns in her chest and suddenly Jizai’s voice - the sage who welcomed her so warmly into his home, let her become a Sun Warrior and taught her to stop being afraid of her flames - filtered through her mind. 

‘Anger comes easily to us firebenders. But it does not control us and it is not part of us. It comes from our passion. Passion is what burns inside our blood and it can drive us to greatness…..or to ruin. You cannot let your anger control you and you also cannot ignore it. You must process it, let yourself feel it instead of pushing it down and then let yourself breathe it out. Do not let anger control your actions. Let your passion flow through you and guide you to do what is right.’

Nysa takes a deep breath and pictures herself back at the Sun Temple. The great ginkgo tree over the pond where the turtleducks would swim, the younger benders meditating in the far courtyard, the warm breeze ruffling the hair at the base of her neck and the heat of the sun on her skin. She breathed in and remembered the smell of the warm summer air and the wafting smell of komodo chicken and hot tarts from the kitchens. She could almost hear the cicadas buzzing and imagine Jizai sitting in front of her, mirroring her meditation with absolute serenity on his face. 

It took a moment for Nysa to realize there were silent tears slipping down her cheeks and the sounds of the forest came back. The breeze, so much cooler than she wished it, the birds chirping in the trees and the soft rush of the stream behind her. It felt like a hole had opened in her chest and she felt like it was consuming her and so she sat, and she cried, silent tears in the flickering shadows of the trees, until the sun sank below the horizon and the birds fell to silence and then turned to the calls of owls. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

All was as usual at Bag End and as a long figure approached the door of the place they had come to call home, their cloak around their shoulders and a curious frown on their face, they paused. 

From inside there seemed to be a great clattering about and multiple voices speaking all at once and in the time Nysa had lived in Bag End, almost two months mind you, not once had she heard such noise come from inside. Because of this, it was with a tentative glance around and following widening of her eyes that she stepped inside the hobbit hole, ducking her head as she did lest it bang against the doorframe as it had enough times before to be wary of it. 

“Bilbo?” a tentative, confused voice called into the smial, attracting more eyes then just that of Bilbo Baggins. 

Nonetheless it was Bilbo Baggins who stepped forward, pushing his way past two of the dwarves he found so suddenly filling his home, with quite the frown on his face though for a moment there was relief as he approached Nysa. 

“Oh Nysa, welcome home. I’ve just- I just don’t know what’s go- excuse me! That was my mother’s! Put that back!” 

Nysa watches with wide eyes and makes room for the hobbit as he marches past her and grabs an empty vase from the dwarf in the hat who Bilbo honestly didn’t bother to remember the name of - and quite fair of him to considering how his night was going so far- before he turned back to the slightly worried and mostly confused firebender. 

“I didn’t know we were expecting company?” she states, pulling her swords from her back and hanging them on the - surprisingly vacant considering the amount of new swords and weapons that scattered the entry way and glory box beside it - hook beside the door Bilbo had installed specially for them. 

Bilbo cleared his throat and directed a glare to the tall grey wizard who was now surveying the new comer with a great deal of confusion and surprise. 

“Neither was I,”   
Nysa raised her brow slightly at the annoyed grit in the hobbits voice, new to the tone entirely. 

“And who’s this lovely lady? Are you Mrs.Baggins then?” the dwarf with the curled hair and even move curled mustache asked, a grin on his face as he eyed the oddly cloaked girl. 

Bilbo spluttered and Nysa shook her head, eyeing the dwarf warily. 

“I-! She’s-! I’m not married!” Bilbo finally managed and Nysa decided it would be best if she introduced herself at least a little more than that. 

“I’m Nysa, Bilbo’s completely platonic roommate. He took me in because I don’t have a home. But who are you? And why are you in our house?” 

“The name’s Bofur, at yer service lassie!” the dwarf gave a brilliant smile and an exaggerated sweeping bow before following after another one who had a tight hold on a string of sausages. 

“And how, Miss Nysa, did you come to have no home?” came the voice of the tall grey robed man who’d stood in the corner of the room, ducking just a bit to avoid the ceiling - Nysa was glad she didn’t have to do that but it was close by about two four fingers widths - surveying her as she gazed in confusion at the chaos of 12 dwarves in the home she’d recently started calling her own. 

Nysa eyed the man warily and looked around for Bilbo again - to no luck - before answering tersely. “How do you think someone ends up without a home?” 

Gandalf frowned right back at the girl and his brow furrowed once more as he took in the presence of magic that seemed to breathe within her. This was no ordinary mortal and beyond that, he’s not even sure she is mortal. Something otherworldly clings to her very soul and he would not think for a mere moment that it was by any slight coincidence this girl had ended up in the home of Bilbo Baggins in the very same summer that Gandalf was to come knocking with a company of dwarves and a quest. 

The very air around her seemed warmed by her presence and as he looked at the strange symbol, possibly even foreign script of writing, that marked the end of her cloak as it fell over chest, he wondered just what else may be meddling in this quest he started. Well, there’s only one way to get answers. The girl is right in the middle of trying to spot Bilbo Baggins somewhere amongst the dwarves that bustle about when Gandalf takes a step closer. 

“Where are my manners! It seems I’ve quite forgotten to introduce myself! I am Gandalf, the Grey Wizard of Middle Earth,” the wizard watches the girl’s eyes widen when she catches his title and she turns to survey him. “Friend to all magical beings and keeper of this realm. Might I have a word with you my dear?” he gestures to the door and Nysa bites her lip, eyeing him once again before grabbing her swords quite plainly and stepping out of the hobbit hole. 

Gandalf chuckles at her boldness and decides whatever is to come of this conversation, he quite likes this girl’s spirit. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Nysa hears the door shut behind the wizard and hears the wizard following her as she turns around the bend in the road and climbs the small hill behind Bag End where she takes a seat and waits for the ‘Wizard’ to join her. 

It barely takes a moment and as he sits he pulls out a pipe, reaching for something in his coat before Nysa extends her hand, pinkie alight with a small flame. 

The wizard inhales sharply and he eyes Nysa with a much more thoughtful look before he lowers his pipe and accepts the light. After a deep inhale he lets out a small ring of smoke and blows another one through it and Nysa exhales a puff of laughter. 

“So it would seem I was right in thinking you aren’t all that meets the eye Miss Nysa.” 

“It’s pronounced Nee-suh, and you’re right. I’m not really from around here.” 

“Ah, Nysa.” he gets it right this time and gives her a kind smile. “It’s a lovely name. Now, if you would my dear, what has brought you to this particular hobbit hole?” 

Nysa crosses her legs in front of her and takes a deep breath, hesitancy filling her and yet that pull in her gut is back. The one that pulls at her with the gentle heat of dragon fire that swirls with all the colors of the world and tells her to trust the strange grey man beside her. 

And so she tells him. The short version, skipping all the details about her world she’d given Bilbo, and tells him of her dream. About the bending and the Fire Mother. About how she died saving a dragon and she’s been brought here in hopes to save another, not in life but in death. She tells him about Smaug and watches the way his eyes widen as she describes what she saw that night from the sky in her dreams. And she tells him about her choice. She sees his eyes widen then too but then they turn sad and he looks awash with more grief than even Bilbo had when he saw her scar. 

It’s a long moment before either of them speak again and Nysa pulls her cloak around herself, breathing deep and letting her fire warm her from the inside against the chill air. If Gandalf notices the smoke that billows from her nostrils he says nothing but takes a long puff from his pipe and looks up at the sky. 

“And have you made your choice? Do you know if you would stay here? Endure another life without knowing where it leads except to a dragon poisoned with evil, or would you wish to move on, pass to your spirit world and from there to peace?” 

Nysa takes a deep breath and this time does catch Gandalf marveling at the small smoke cloud that billows from her lips. 

“I can’t say I haven’t thought about both. My family is dead and I fulfilled my purpose in life, at least I think I did. I didn’t get to see after the war but I got to be part of the end of it, I think that counts for something.” Gandalf’s face falls at the mention of war and she knows it must be a burning question in his mind. “Sometimes when I close my eyes and think hard I can remember what it felt like to be home. Not the one I grew up in but the one I died for.” again Gandalf’s face falls even more. “I wonder if that’s what my peace would be. If I could sit again in the garden, below the gingko tree listening to the turtleducks swimming in the koi pond. But-” Nysa glances to Bag End, to the smoke rising from the chimney that barely breaks over the hill. “then I think of Bilbo. A kind who’s door I stumbled across by pure chance, at least I think it was chance, who took me in. A strange girl, with no memories, from an entirely different world. He cared for me without hesitation or lingering doubts. Welcomed me into his home and made it my home too.” Nysa sighs fondly and pulls her knees to her chest, leaning her head on them as she looks at Gandalf. “I think he would be lonely without me. He doesn’t say it but sometimes when I’m back late and I stand out here thinking; about my life and my choice, I see him through the window in the garden. I see him pacing in the kitchen and checking the time and then pulling out a plate for dinner and right as he goes to grab a cup, he stops. He turns back to the plates and he smiles as he grabs another one and sets it across from him.” 

Gandalf sighs a great big sigh and rubs a hand over Nysa’s back, which is quite warm given the chilled night air but considering she had claimed and proven before his very eyes that she was filled with dragon fire, was not to be unexpected. 

“And I suppose that despite this task asked of you should you stay, that makes it a very hard decision doesn’t it.” 

Nysa’s answering sigh trembles in her chest and she shifts, moving to lie back against the earth and stare up at the stars with a crease between her brows. 

“I grew up in a war, Gandalf. A hundred year war that lasted from long before I was born until the very day I died. That war was my entire life, it took my entire life from me. Everything I touched, every person I met, they were all products or victims of the same war. This might be my one chance for a life without that. I’m tired of war and yet I wake up here everyday with the sun and train and prepare myself, keep myself sharp, because I don’t know life without war. I’ve never had it, never even had a glimpse.” 

Gandalf listens to Nysa’s tale, to her sorrows and burdens and he wishes, not for the first time, that he could simply lay his hand on a shoulder and say ‘everything will be alright’. 

He watches how the starlight bounces off her eyes, brilliant and gold as the sun itself and alive with the very flames inside her, and sees the pain that lingers in them. The grief and soul-deep ache of one who’s seen war. Not just battle but true war, and the effects it has on the whole world around it. 

He thinks of how cruel it is that this girl, just twenty two years of age, has spent all twenty two of those years fighting a battle that never should have been hers and he sees, between the folds of her cloak as they parted for her arms to pillow her head, the bottom of a scar. The very one she described that he can easily picture the twin of on her back that took her life from her. 

“My dear girl, I do not envy you the choice you must make. But I fear I must tell you something that will certainly affect it, or at the very least warn you of it.” 

Nysa frowns and props herself on her elbows to watch as Gandalf takes his own trembling sigh. “The reason I am here tonight, and in the company of these very specific dwarves, is in fact because of that very dragon Smaug that you have been tasked with saving.” 

Nysa draws in a sharp breath and her eyes widen in realization. 

“I’m sure you can guess at least part of what I’m about to tell you but nonetheless it must be said. These are the very dwarves and descendants thereof that the Fire Mother showed you in your dream. In the morning we are to begin the quest to Erebor to reclaim the Lonely Mountain from the dragon Smaug and return the dwarves to their rightful home, and though he has not yet arrived, we will soon be joined by none other than Thorin Oakenshield himself. The heir of Durin and rightful King Under the Mountain. It is because of these facts that I believe it was no mere coincidence that the woods you woke up in were North farthing, nor that the very Hobbit you came to care for and be cared for so greatly by is Bilbo Baggins, the very hobbit I intend to bring along on this quest to reclaim the mountain.”   
Nysa’s breath leaves her so suddenly that when she breathes again it feels like a gasp. Of course. Of course this is how it would play out. She can feel the weighted look Gandalf is giving her and sighs, deep and resigned. 

“Then I guess I have to choose quickly. At the very least I don’t want to decide on an empty stomach.” 

Gandalf musters a chuckle and rises to his feet beside her, offering a hand up before they both make their way back into the little hobbit hole of Bag End.


	5. The Thoughts of a Dwarf and the Entrance of a King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> brain rot go hee!hee!

Kili had been much too preoccupied with helping Nori get his hand out of a cookie jar when the strange woman had first arrived that all he knew of her at all was the fact that she had indeed arrived. At least at some point according to Bofur. 

The second time however he had been sitting beside his brother at one end of the dining table and he’d nearly dropped his ale as she stepped into the room, Gandalf the Grey himself at her back who became quite preoccupied himself with the glass of wine Dori had been waiting to give him. 

Kili paid no mind to it and his heart raced as he gazed at her, her attention caught in what must have been a somewhat humorous conversation with their hosting hobbit for her lips were drawn up in one corner and there was laughter in her eyes. 

Oh her eyes, they shined like the very sun itself, gold and glowing in the firelight that danced across her rich honey skin. Her cloak covered all but her face and yet it was such a beautiful face he took no notice at all to the oddities of the garment. Her lips looked soft as pillows, so thick and lucious and colored like crushed berries had pressed between them. All her features, her nose round and low, her cheeks supple and kissed with heat, all frame so beautiful by hair dark as obsidian. 

He’d never seen a hairstyle like hers before. The back cropped in layers from the tops of her ears to the dip of her neck and the sides hanging down from just behind her ears - just where two beautiful braids could be - to the very front of her face, hanging down to just above her shoulders. Her beauty was unlike anything he’d gazed upon in all his life and he felt stricken, his chest burning with the desire to speak to her, to hear her voice for surely it was just as beautiful as she. 

Fili seems to have taken notice of his brother’s frozen stature for he soon found himself following Kili’s eyes and he too was taken by the beauty of the woman who stood before the table, nodding with distracted eyes as the company along the table introduced themselves. 

Fili was quick to pipe up at his turn and he awaited his brother to do the same, their joint introduction a well practiced move, and it took a few moments for him to realize his brother was far too struck with the foreign looking beauty to realize all Fili was waiting for him. Fili snickered and shoved his brother’s head forward. “And my daft brother Kili who seems to have lost his words in his ale tonight. At your service!” 

“Wha-hey!” Kili blinked back to himself and looked between his brother and the beauty, distraught - more of a pout really - painted on his face. 

Laughter arose around the table and Kili playfully elbowed his brother who snorted and tilted his eyebrows back towards the other end of the table. 

“I’m Nysa,” she put her right hand in a fist and pressed her left hand, palm straight, to her fist in front of her chest, bowing her head forward to her hands and then dropping the greeting. “It’s nice to meet you,” 

There were a few raised eyebrows around the table at the solemn greeting and Ori tried his hand at making the greeting back. Nysa seemed to realize and the cloaked woman took the free seat beside the young scribe with the smallest of smiles as she switched the hands he was doing the greeting with. When he did it again she nodded and her smile grew just a bit. Just a bit enough to make Kili’s heart race and he too started pressing his fist to his palm, looking at Ori’s hands to make sure he was right and the gesture quickly spread around the table as the dwarves critiqued each other’s hand placements. 

“Is that how you greet each other where you’re from?” Balin’s voice rose above the chatter and Nysa nodded. Repeating the gesture back at the dwarf but this time instead of placing her palm against her fist she placed it under. This didn’t go unnoticed by the dwarven elder but before he could ask his question, a voice was heard from the room over. 

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt but where should I put my plate?” 

Grins arise across the table and Nysa’s barely looked over to see what’s making Bilbo fret so much to Gandalf when there’s an answer from a certain blonde prince. 

“Give it here Ori!” 

Nysa truly feels at least a little bit bad for Bilbo as he yelps when Fili throws the plate through into the kitchen and the dwarves at the table begin to stomp their feet rhythmically, knives and forks chiming off each other to the tune. 

“Can you not do that! You’ll blunt them!” 

“Oh! D’ya hear that laddies? He said we’ll blunt the knives!” 

Laughter arises and it’s less than a moment before a song starts. 

Blunt the knives, bend the forks  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks

Bilbo looks as if he might faint as his plates and bowls and cups go flying through the rooms and Nysa, grinning, barely has time to grab a couple candied persimmons off a plate before it goes flying. 

Chip the glasses and crack the plates  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Cut the cloth, tread on the fat  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat

Kili chances a look at Nysa as he sends a bowl over his shoulder and he can’t help his grin at seeing the way the corners of her lips turn up, her eyes dancing over the chaos as she attempts to grab a few pieces of a meal before everything goes flying away.

Pour the milk on the pantry floor  
Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowls  
Pound them up with a thumping pole

Nysa nearly jolts when a hand comes to rest on her shoulder before she turns and sees a dwarf, the one who’d apparently drank too much to introduce himself as ‘Kili’ earlier, grinning at her as he hands her a small plate with meats, cheese, and even a few renegade tomatoes she was sure had all already been eaten. 

Kili’s cheeks burn almost as bright as his heart at the small smile and thanks she gives him as she takes the plate, the both of them ducking together as a plate sails over their heads. 

When you're finished if they are whole  
Send them down the hall to roll

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Bilbo follows the last sailing bowl into the dining room, looking positively stricken, only to huff and send a forlorn glance to Nysa as he surveys his clean and tidily stacked dishes all before him on the table as the dwarves laugh around him. 

A sudden and loud knock silences the room and another glance is shared between Nysa and Bilbo as the dwarves hurry about clearing the table for whoever has just come to the door. 

Gandalf’s voice arose above the quick muttering of the dwarves. “He’s here.”

Nysa took the last bite from her plate that she could stomach, still half full but the dwarf with a thick orange beard was happy to take it from her to finish it off, and followed Bilbo to the entryway, not missing the pointed glance Gandalf gave her as he opened the door. 

“Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice.” The dwarf that enters Bag End has an air of regality - or maybe better put, pride - about him that the other dwarves had not. He looks up at Gandalf with all the confidence of looking down at him.

“I wouldn’t have found it at all, had it not been for that mark on the door.” Balin takes the coat handed to him and places it down with the many others on Belladonna Took’s glory box and Bilbo is quite quick to chime in soon after. 

“Mark? There’s no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago! Nysa even helped me with it!” 

“There is a mark, I’ve put it there myself.” Gandalf places a hand on the offronted hobbit’s shoulder. “Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.” 

Bilbo looks over at Nysa with exasperation before he turns to frown at the dwarf before him as he felt himself surveyed. 

“So, this is the hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?” Thorin looks down his nose at Bilbo and if Nysa wasn’t so completely off put by just that one gesture, she might have thought Bilbo’s bewildered stare was funny. 

“Pardon me?” 

The dwarf took to circling him and giving him a doubtful once over. 

“Axe or sword, what’s your weapon of choice?” 

“Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know. But I fail to see why that’s relevant.” the hobbit huffed. 

“I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” Thorin turns his eyes to Gandalf and he looks completely unimpressed and that’s before he even turns to scoff at Nysa. 

“And who is this? The hobbits housemaid?” 

Bilbo looks quite more outraged than he did even when called a grocer but as Nysa settles a glare on Thorin he feels quite smug about the verbal lashing the dwarf is surely about to receive. Bilbo’s seen it before when old Prisca Underburrow came knocking at their door one early morning to ask some rather inappropriate questions about the relationship between Bilbo and his housemate. 

But just as he hoped to witness the verbal lashing surely about to take place - as one waits with anticipation before a gladiator match where a clear victor is seen from the start - his excitement dies down as Gandalf makes his presence quite known. 

“She is no housemaid, Thorin Oakenshield.” the grey wizard speaks with a ferocity that fills the room and the mighty dwarf king himself looks taken aback. “And should the Lady Nysa agree with my request for her to join this company, then I shall see that you treat her with much more respect than you have offered tonight.” 

Light seems to return to the room as Gandalf clears his throat and lifts a hand to the dining room, where in fact the other members of the company are sitting quite still with shock as their eyes flicker from their king to the woman held so high in regard by the Grey Wizard. 

“Now, we have business matters to discuss and I daresay you must be hungry from your journey.” 

Thorin casts another look, this one much more curious and a bit more suspicious as well, towards Nysa before he follows the wizard into the dining room. 

Bilbo himself casts a glance at Nysa before following himself at a reassuring nod of her head. Nysa avoids the dining room and instead moves to sit in the den, resting her feet before the fire as she takes a deep breath to calm herself and loses herself to her thoughts as she gazes into the fire.


	6. Nysa's Choice

It’s the thud of Bilbo’s body hitting the floor that finally draws Nysa’s attention back to the present and she inhales sharply as one of the dwarves, Bofur she’s pretty sure, carries the limp hobbit into the den. 

Nysa ushers him towards Bilbo’s favorite chair and quickly steps to the kitchen, not sparing a glance at the dining room of dwarves as she grabs Bilbo’s favorite mug and reaches up to grab a tea steep, frowning as it gets caught on the thyme and sighing as she reaches to put the mug between her thighs so she can use both hands to free it without pulling down the rest of the dried herb. 

Before she can place the mug however, a warm hand brushes hers and the mug is taken from her. Nysa glances at the dark haired dwarf - Kili, and this time she’s sure of it - who smiles at her. 

“Need a hand?”

She huffs a laugh and gets back to freeing the steep from its un-thymly prison. “I could definitely use at least a couple more. It would make climbing easier at the very least,” 

He laughs and Nysa finally manages to pull the small chain of the tea steep free from the dried herb and she grins. 

“So, Gandalf has asked you to come on our quest? Is he not worried for your safety?” Kili trails close behind her as she reaches up again. Nysa is focused on grabbing a good small bundle of the hanging chamomile and doesn’t notice the dwarf trailing his eyes over her or the pink tint to his ears. 

Kili himself doesn’t notice her grin fall as he brings up the quest and Gandalf’s announced invitation of her. 

“I haven’t said yes but if I do it’s definitely not my safety he has to worry about.” she sighs as she stands flat again and drops the tea carefully into the steeper. Kili’s grin widens as he follows her to the water pitcher and holds the cup up for her to fill. 

“And why’s that Miss Nysa?” 

“If I told you that,” Nysa grins again, taking the cup and dropping the steeper in, but this time it doesn’t quite reach her eyes and Kili notices. “I’d have to kill you.” 

Kili is halfway through a laugh before his eyes widen and his jaw drops, watching the cup in her hands start to steam as she walks away though he knew from the small drop of water that’d splashed his thumb as he held the cup, it had been lukewarm at best. 

Bilbo is just stirring as Nysa re-enters the den and his smile is genuine - perhaps for the first time that night - as he accepts the tea from her with a happy hum. 

Gandalf looks to Nysa and she nods, knows he’s going to try and convince Bilbo of the quest, and she turns from him. 

Four pairs of eyes watch Nysa exit Bag End and only one pair sees her pass by the window of the garden and take a seat there, close enough to listen but far enough to think as she sits among the strawberries and looks up at the stars. 

It’s the deep timber humming that drifts out of the garden window that again pulls Nysa from her thoughts. 

Far over the Misty Mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away, ere break of day  
To find our long forgotten gold

The pines were roaring on the height  
The winds were moaning in the night  
The fire was red, it flaming spread;  
The trees like torches blazed with light

Nysa can’t help the tears that pool in her eyes as she stands and chances a look through the garden window. 

The dwarves gaze into the fire and some have their arms extended to grasp hands as they sing of lost homes and the very day that Nysa watched from Shaw’s back, with the familiar taste of blood and ash stinging her nostrils and the back of her throat. 

She thinks of Shaw, the magnificent red dragon who she’d laid down her life for because of the kindness he’d given her first. How Shaw and Ran had been the first ones to show her that fire wasn’t just pain and destruction but also light and life. And she thought of Smaug, another dragon, but this one poisoned so deeply by a darkness that he had stolen these dwarves’ - these singing, kind, cup holding dwarves - home and she felt a weight of resignation settle in her chest. 

A tear slides silent down Nysa’s cheek as she makes eye contact with Gandalf where he rests in the corner just across from the half open window before she hangs her head and lets the rest fall, as silent as the first. Gandalf releases a sigh and feels a weight of grief settle on his heart. It would seem her choice has been made. 

~~~~~~~

‘We’ll be moving through the eastfarthing woods two hours past dawn. I will see you then my dear,’

Gandalf’s words played through Nysa’s mind as she finished rolling her spare cloak into her pack. That tug was still in her gut though and she knew even without his words from the early morning as she’d seen the dwarves leaving that she would have been able to find them. 

Sighing, she went through a mental checklist again. Socks, two pairs of underclothes, her two spare outfits, a water skin, a pouch of dried fruits and nuts, a good amount of bandaging and a few herbs she’d learned about it Bilbo’s many books about medicine, a flatstone for her swords, a few extra pieces of leather cord, a small wooden bowl from the kitchen and a cup to go with it.   
She was wearing the clothes she arrived in and readjusted her cloak slightly so it opened up a bit more. She’d wrapped it today to curtain open with her arms instead of leaving two separate openings for her arms to come through as she had last time. Nysa glanced again at the sun in the sky and cast one last glance around the hobbit hole before making her way towards the eastfarthing woods. 

Bilbo hadn’t agreed to sign the contract last night, the long piece of parchment sitting on the table bare of his signature, and yet Nysa felt somewhere in that same tugging feeling in her gut, that she would not be making this journey without him. 

It didn’t take long for Nysa to reach the woods and she could hear the bustle of the company ahead of her, could see their figures through the trees, but she walked slowly and didn’t bother to call out. 

Gandalf had noticed the presence of the company’s tail, he could feel the heat of her magic even across the distance that separated them and felt himself quite reassured that their burglar would soon arrive as well. 

True to his feeling, it was barely ten minutes later that Bilbo Baggin’s voice brought the procession to a halt. 

“Wait! Wait!” Bilbo doesn’t even look mildly surprised to see Nysa but he smiles as he passes her and holds the contract out towards Balin. “I signed it.” 

“Well Miss Nysa, I dinnae think ye were coming’,” Bofur is the first to take notice of the firebender’s presence as Balin examines the contract and Nysa looks over to the grinning hobbit with fond eyes. 

“I couldn’t leave him on his own.” It’s a simple explanation but Bofur finds himself looking at the odd, quiet girl with a new appreciation. 

“It’s good he’s got a friend like you, and since you’re here on Gandalf’s recommendation, I’m sure it’ll be quite good for the rest of us as well!” 

“Everything appears to be in order.” Balin smiles down at the hobbit and over to Nysa as well. “Welcome, master Baggins and Mistress Nyssa, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

Bilbo looks quite pleased with himself and Nysa pointedly ignores Thorin’s narrowed eyes as they pass between her and the hobbit. 

“Give them a pony.” 

Bilbo blanches and this time Nysa does let herself grin as Fili and Kili ride their strange ‘pony’s to her. 

“Have you ever ridden a pony before Miss Nysa?” Fili asks as he hands her the reins to the extra one between him and his brother. 

Nysa shakes her head. 

“No, but I’ve ridden an ostrich horse and this creature looks much more tame.” 

The brothers share a confused look, the shared thought of ‘What’s an ostrich horse’ passing between as Nysa pulls herself with a practiced ease onto the pony. Bilbo however is having quite a moment himself at the prospect of pony riding.

“No, no, no, no. That…that won’t be necessary. Thank you. I’m sure I can keep up on foot. Yeah, I…I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frog Morton once-Oh goodness!”

Bilbo yelps as his arms are grabbed and he’s suddenly hoisted over the head of and onto a pony, his eyes wide as he splutters. 

“Miss Nysa, if I might ask,” Nysa turns her head to see one of the younger dwarves, Ori, she thinks, looking at her curiously. “What’s an ‘osrige horse’?”

“You can just call me Nysa. And an ostrich horse,” she emphasizes the pronunciation and Ori mouths it a few times as he looks at her. “Is sort of like a hawk but it’s about this size. It’s got two legs instead of four and their wings are too small to fly. They’re more bumpy than this to ride and their feathers are softer too. But their beaks can be fast and sharp if you annoy them so you have to be careful.” 

“So it’s like a bird horse?” 

More than a couple dwarves are now listening in and it’s Kili who asks the question, brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Sort of. I’ve never seen a horse that wasn’t an ostrich horse before.” 

“So you don’t have ponies where you come from m-...Nysa” 

Nysa shakes her head and strokes a hand over the dark mane of the pony she’s riding. 

“No. My home is very different from this place.” 

“And where exactly is your home, if I might ask?” Fili smiles at Nysa but it falls a bit as he sees her eyes grow sad and the grin slide off her face. 

“Far away from here.” her answer is short and she nudges her pony ahead, pulling to ride beside Gandalf and the hobbit. 

Fili frowns and shares a look with his brother. It seems Nysa is more of a mystery than they first thought.


	7. Nysa meets three trolls

Kili can’t keep the frown from his face as watches Nysa ride in silence beside Gandalf and Mister Boggins. She seems to be lost in thought about something and occasionally the wizard and the hobbit will throw her glances. Habitual seeming from the hobbit and concern in the gaze of the wizard. 

Though she doesn’t engage in any conversation, she doesn’t seem to be completely lost in her thoughts. She looks around them warily from time to time and keeps her eyes upwards as well, narrow as they scan the horizon and scenery around them, as if she’s waiting for something. It’s something Kili has seen Thorin do before and a few other members of the company as well during travels. It’s a habit picked up from war, they’ve told him, constant vigilance when out in the open, the expectation of an attack. 

Kili wonders, not for the first time, just where she’s come from, that she’s so quiet and yet her eyes so sharp. 

~~~~~~

Camp is made only once darkness has settled and Nysa sets her bedroll on the very edge of the camp, the only bedroll near hers being Bilbo’s, tucked between hers and the large boulder that she currently sits on. 

Dinner was a short affair and most of the company retired already, snores rising above the crackling of the fire. Nysa finds herself lost in the flames, anxious at the prospect of sleep. 

She’d made her decision the night before but her sleep had been dreamless and she had not yet had the chance to speak with Gandalf. She’s held herself back so far from using any bending except her dragon’s breath, keeping herself warm as the chill of night settled in the air. But she needs to know if she can trust the dwarves, despite their suspicious eyes, with knowing about at the very least her bending. 

Gandalf had warned her to keep it secret, to hide it from anyone she did not trust, and she knew it was wise advice, but watching Bifur strike stone against flint for nearly five full minutes to get a fire going had quite honestly been painful. 

But Gandalf sat across the camp from her and Thorin’s eyes kept their glint of suspicion on her and while he was awake she didn’t expect she would have a moment alone with the wizard. 

As it was, that was exactly what she was waiting for. Thorin to sleep. Kili and Fili sat watch and Balin as well sat beside the fire, humming to himself as he looked over a map. 

It was Bilbo’s soft swords to his pony that drew her from her focus and she felt fondness as he ‘secretly’ fed Myrtle an apple. 

A sharp screeching yowl pierced the air and Nysa tensed, eyes darting to her swords that lay beside her bedroll. 

“What was that?!” Bilbo whispered shrilly, pointing into the darkness the sound had come from as he approached Kili and Fili who shared a quick glance. 

“Orcs.” 

“Orcs?” 

Thorin tensed and sat upright, his eyes scanning the horizon and Nysa’s fists clenched, heating. 

“Throat cutters. There’d be dozens of them out there. The low lands are crawling with them.” Fili watches the hobbit tense at his words and holds back a snicker as his brother continues.

“They strike, in the wee small hours, when everyone’s asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood.”

Nysa glares as the brothers laugh at Bilbo’s panicked expression. She may not know what orcs are but she knows what an attack in the night can bring from an enemy. She’s seen enough Fire Nation raids to know it’s nothing to laugh at. 

“You think that’s funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?” Thorin stands now, eyes sharp as he glares his nephews into silence. He feels the chill of his memories settle on his skin as they shrink under his stare. 

“We didn’t mean anything by it.” Kili says. 

“No you didn’t. You know nothing of the world.” Thorin spits the words and turns from them, wandering to the ledge as he represses a shudder. Orcs certainly, are no laughing matter. 

A hush falls and Bilbo looks to Nysa, frown deepening as she pulls her knees to her chest, eyes dark. 

“Don’t mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs.” Balin’s calm voice draws remaining eyes to him and Nysa takes the moment to cast a glance to Gandalf, catching his eye pointedly as she moves to the very edge of camp, far enough that hushed voices will not be heard. 

It takes a moment, but he soon follows as Balin recounts the tale of the dragon Smaug and the Battle of Moria. 

“I’m grateful, Nysa, that you decided to come. At no small cost to yourself for that matter. Tell me, have you spoken again with your Mother of Fire?” 

Nysa frowns and draws her cloak around her snugly as she glances back to the dwarves, wrapped up in their story beside the fire, before she answers. 

“No. I didn’t have any dreams last night and it’s made me anxious but I need to know Gandalf, can I trust these dwarves? Firebending is in the way I breathe, it’s hard to hold myself back.” 

Gandalf hums. “I’d say you can reveal yourself when you wish to now that we are started on our quest, but I would warn you to hesitate on telling them your true purpose on this quest until perhaps they trust you a bit more as well. Reveal what you will and I will give my word to back yours.” 

Nysa exhales in relief and nods, grateful to have the wizard on her side as they make their way back to the campfire. Just in time to hear the end of Balin’s tale. 

~~~~~~~~~

The days seem to pass quickly and the nights even quicker. They’ve been traveling for almost two weeks now and Kili has barely had the chance to say more than a few words to Nysa. 

She seems to prefer the company of herself or the hobbit over all others but with the way that most of the company, especially Thorin, eyes her wearily, Kili can’t find it in himself to blame her. 

She sleeps away from everyone if she sleeps at all, always tossing and turning before bolting up with wide eyes and what seems to be ghosts haunting them before she pulls on her strangely layered cloak and finds somewhere to sit and close her eyes with her hands resting on her knees. 

It’s an odd position and no matter how he tries to replicate it, he just can’t get both of his feet twisted over each other the way she does. Still, Kili can’t help but find his eyes drawn to her. Even now as she sleep, dusk barely setting in and yet she had laid out her bedroll right outside the treeline, a good ways from the bustle of the company setting up camp, and fallen right to sleep, though it doesn’t look to be a good one judging from the frown on her face and crease in her brow. 

“Brother, you seem distracted. You were supposed to join me at the ponies,” 

Kili starts as a hand claps down on his shoulders and his eyes quickly dart away from the figure that sleeps on the edge of the camp. Not quick enough to miss the notice of his grinning brother though. 

“You’ve had a keen eye on Miss Nysa ever since you first saw her brother, anythin’ you want to tell me?” Fili teases. 

Kili huffs and shakes off his brother’s hand, unable to stop himself as he looks again at Nysa’s still form. 

“I’m only worried is all. I don’t think she slept last night, it’ll slow down the company.” 

“Ay, you’re more likely to convince me you’ve suddenly grown a foot then that pitiful drabble,” Fili snorts and ducks Kili’s playful swing. 

“Come along brother, Uncle Thorin’ll be quite cross if we lose a pony.” 

Kili takes one last look, feels a pang in his chest as Nysa shifts in her sleep and her brows furrow, before he follows his brother.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nysa jolts awake, eyes wide and gasping as she looks around but finds herself alone. Her gut feeling is back and stronger than it’s ever been before a pit rises in her stomach behind it. 

Nysa is on her feet in moments, abandoning her cloak and sweat sliding from her skin as the flames inside her swell with anticipation. The tug pulls her towards the treeline and she doesn’t hesitate as she runs for it, ears straining at familiar voices of the dwarves ahead of her. 

It’s Bilbo’s voice she hears first and Nysa quickly ducks behind a fallen tree, eyes wide as she takes in the sight before her. 

Half the dwarves are bound in sacks in a pile and the other half are tied to a spit, slowly being twisted over a fire by two of the most disgusting creatures she’s seen in her entire life. 

A third is holding Bombur by the bottom of the sack he’s in and Bilbo’s voice draws her attention to the small, oddly sticky looking hobbit just a bit away from the dwarf pile. 

“N-Not that one! He’s infected!” the monster holding Bombur looks startled. 

“You wot?” 

“Yeah he’s got worms in his...tubes.” Bilbo looks mildly confused with himself at the answer and the monster throws Bombur to the pile with a shout of disgust. 

Nysa decides this moment is as good as any for an entrance and cracks her neck, rolling her shoulders as she leans forward, nothing but the roar of her flames in her ears as they burst from her feet and she shoots into the monster camp. 

“Whot in the-” the monster that had held Bombur cuts off with a scream and Nysa uses another burst of fire propulsion from her soles to soar to his height, her fire whip snapping down across his face with brutal precision. 

The monster falls back screaming and holding its face and before it can move again Nysa uses him as a spring board, ducking through the hands of the other monsters that have started to cry out and reach for her.

Nysa points her feet and keeps her arms close to her side as she slips between their grasps and again her soles ignite, three fire jabs in quick succession blind the second monster and it howls, holding the place it’s eyes used to be that are now nothing but scorched sockets. 

“Nysa look out!” 

Bilbo’s voice jolts her and Nysa pushes off the second monster as he crashes to the ground, focusing all her fire to her mouth as she soars above the hands that reached for her, the first having gotten over his initial shock and working tandem with the third to try and catch her. 

She hits the ground running and jumps for the spit, throwing all her weight into kicking it and catching herself on her hands as it rolls into the pile of dwarves, jumping up again to avoid another swipe. 

Nysa uses the angle of a tree to run up it and flips backward over the third monster’s hand, landing on the solid of its arm she runs across it and snaps it across the face with another whip. 

The monster screams and falls and Nysa uses the opportunity to send a firebomb directly into its mouth and jumps up just as it falls to the ground, dead. 

“Bert! I’ll ‘ave you you-” the monster is cut off as Nysa uses another burst of propulsion and soars over it’s head, flames trailing from her sole as she brings her foot down over it’s ugly face with a grunt of effort. 

She drops low and there’s a call of warning before two hands are coming at her from either side. But Nysa’s too quick, she jumps, eyes sharp and glaring as she spins through the air in a barrel roll, one hand passing above her and the other below before a massive ball of flame bursts from her feet and she’s launched forward and the monster back by the blast. 

One monster remains standing and he screams as he flails around, reaching for her blind as dark blood oozes from the place his eyes used to be. 

In her peripherals Nysa is aware of the dwarves trying to free themselves, some at least, the others are staring at her with wide eyes and open mouths as she runs to the monster, bursts of flame from her feet as she firesteps up his body and uses the momentum of his reach for her to launch herself into the air. 

The monster roars as he reaches up at her and Nysa turns in the air, legs tensing as she gets ready and with a final cry of effort she pushes a firebomb from her right fist and lands, one knee bent against its forehead and the other extended with her heel hooked in it’s jaw to hold it open as she scorches him from the inside out. 

The final beast falls with a crash over the firepit and Nysa jumps from it, landing in a crouch as Gandalf himself appears at the top of a boulder overlooking the camp, the sun rising behind him. 

Nysa takes a deep breath and stands, her eyes flickering to the wizard who gazes at her with a confident smile. 

“Nysa!” 

Bilbo hops worriedly to her and Nysa sighs in relief as she sees no injuries on the hobbit. 

“Bilbo, what were those things?” 

Nysa uses a flame dagger to shred the bag open and Bilbo is quick to step out of it, kicking it away before he turns and throws his arms around the crouching girl before him.   
“Those, Nysa, we’re trolls, and I shall hope we never have to deal with such terrible creatures again.” 

“So do I Bilbo, because to be quite honest, you stink.” Nysa laughs as the hobbit splutters and draws back from her. 

“Yes well I should think so after one of the ugly creatures used me as a handkerchief. Can you believe it Nysa!? A troll! Has a handkerchief and I do not!” 

Nysa grins and rises to her feet, glancing over at where Gandalf steps into the clearing as the sun settles above them, Bilbo still grumbling beside her as he makes his way to the dwarves. 

Nysa swallows and makes her way over as well, avoiding the harsh glare of Thorin as she kneels beside the first dwarf that doesn’t shy away from her. 

Kili instead looks up at her with nothing short of wonder. 

“That was incredible. I’ve never seen anyone fight like that, are you a fire mage of some sort?” 

Nysa can’t stop her breathy laugh as she makes another fire dagger, careful to not burn him as she cuts open the bag. 

“Something like that. How did you get caught by trolls?”

“Well they stole some of the ponies first-” Ori chirps up from behind Nysa where Gandalf is freeing the dwarves who were on the spit, but something stops him and Nysa feels as shadow fall over her as she frees Balin who thanks her with a smiling nod. 

Kili has started working on cutting open the rest of the bags and the dwarves hurry to gather their weapons and coats from a separate pile but she feels their eyes all glancing to her as she turns and stands to match the glare of Thorin Oakenshield. 

“And what, pray tell, was that dark magic?”

“Nothing about my flame is dark, Thorin Oakenshield, and keep in mind I just saved your life. You could try being nicer.” 

Thorin scoffs and his glare returns more heated. “You are not welcome in my company, if not for Gandalf you wouldn’t be here at all. We have no place for a woman on this quest, especially not one who wields magic that is surely dark.” 

Nysa glares right back and bites her tongue as Gandalf raises a hand before her, turning his own small glare on Thorin. 

“She is right Thorin, she just saved your life and the lives of your kin, do you not owe her thanks? And besides that I can assure you, no magic of hers is dark in any way. You think I would have brought evil on this quest I myself urged you upon?” 

Thorin looks like he wants to say more but it’s Balin this time that cuts him off. 

“The wizard is right Thorin, she’s just saved our lives. By no dwarven custom is it right to insult her after such an act. She’s a skilled fighter and Gandalf trusts her. Do y’not think it’s time we started trusting her as well?” 

Thorin frowns and Nysa decides that she had enough of the salty man. She turns to let them grumble about her in peace and moves to help Ori get his slingshot from where it’s been tossed at some point to be caught on a branch. 

“Do you need a hand with that?” 

Ori startles at her silent approach but smiles nonetheless. “If you could Miss Nysa. I’m not very good at climbing myself.” 

Nysa nods and jumps up, grabbing a lower branch and facing her forearms as she pulls herself up and into the tree. She slides the slingshot off a branch just above her and lets herself drop back down, knees bending to take the shock as she hands Ori his weapon. 

“It’s no problem, Ori.” 

“Ori! Come here!” Dori calls his brother over and casts a suspicious eye at Nysa and she sighs. It’s not like it’s the first time people have become wary of her after finding out she’s a firebender. 

Ori gives her another short smile before joining his brother and Nysa turns back to find Bilbo only to nearly bump chest first into Kili. 

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s alright,” Kili grins and reaches a hand out, as if to stabilize her but Nysa has never been one to lose her footing. No good firebender is. 

“I just wanted to thank you- again. It was breathtaking, watching you take down those trolls. Where on earth did you learn to fight like that?” 

Nysa weighs her options and sees everyone is taking their time gathering their things and speaking amongst themselves so she decides to take a seat on a fallen tree, Kili hopping up next to her as he turns to hear her answer eagerly. 

“In the temple I lived in. The only real home I’ve ever had before I met Bilbo.” 

“What’s a temple?” 

Nysa frowns for a moment as she tries to think of a way to describe it. “It’s sort of like a really big house where people come to pray and some people live.” Kili nods with understanding. “I was taken in by the Sun Warriors. Our temple was a secret one and they found me in the woods near death. I was starving and injured after the- after some bad people found me. I didn’t know how to use my firebending well at all and they taught me how to, taught me not to be afraid of it and how to protect myself.” 

“Why were there bad people after you? What about your family?” Kili asks, his eyes sad. 

“I don’t have a family.” 

Nysa spots Bilbo headed her way and takes the opportunity to slide off the tree, walking quickly towards him to avoid the shocked look on Kili’s face. 

“Gandalf says there’s a troll cave nearby, we’re going to see it I suppose.” Bilbo casts a glance behind her and Nysa pointedly ignores the look he gives her. 

“Come on Bilbo, let’s go after the great grey wizard.” 

“Great indeed. If he was there all along I don’t see why he didn’t help you with those trolls. You were quite capable but I’m sure a wizard could have made it much easier.” 

Nysa grins down at Bilbo and he shares the look with her. “I guess he might have found it entertaining.”


	8. Secret Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SECRET TUNNELLLLL SECRET TUNNELLLLL THROUGH THE MOUNTAAAAIIIN SECRET SECRET SECRET SECRET TUNNELLLLL

The troll hoard smells worse than the trolls did and Nysa makes a point to not go inside and instead she sits on a boulder a little ways from the entrance and fiddles with one of the straps of her pack. 

She can’t tell what’s wrong with it but for some reason it’s not fastening properly and the longer she fiddles with it the more agitated she becomes and until she’s almost ready to just send the whole thing up in a ball of flames. A clearing of someone’s throat, stops her. 

Bifur stands in front of her eyeing the clasp in her hand and he says something in Khuzdul before holding his hands out. Nysa blinks at him for a moment before she hands over her pack and watches in fascination as he pulls a small ring of oddly bent and curled metal sticks from his pocket and begins to fiddle with the clasp of her bag. 

She can barely even tell what he’s done before he’s grunting and handing it back to her. Nysa fastens the clasp with no issue and can’t stop herself from beaming at the dwarf. 

“Thank you Bifur, I was close to incinerating the whole thing.” 

The dwarf shakes his momentary surprise and laughs before saying something else in Khuzdul and shaking his head fondly at her but the moment is interrupted quite suddenly when Gandalf raises alarm. 

“Something’s coming!” 

Nysa jumps to her feet and Bifur grabs his axe, the both the them bracing themselves as something does indeed rush their way through the trees. 

“Stay together! Hurry, now! Arm yourselves!” 

Suddenly a figure cloaked in brown on a sled led by….rabbits? Bursts from the trees crying out; “Thieves! Fire! Murder!” 

Gandalf relaxes from his defensive position and Nysa follows warily. 

“Radagast,” he says with some relief. “It’s Radagast the Brown!” 

The company lowers their weapons and a few hesitant looks are traded as the two wizards begin to converse, eventually making their way a bit ahead of the company to have their conversation in private. 

Bifur goes to stand by his brothers and Nysa idly drops leaves into Bilbo’s hair as he sits beside her, puffing at her when he catches on until a howl breaks them all from their calm. 

“Was that a wolf? Are there…are there wolves out there?” Nysa jumps from the boulder and reaches to lift Bilbo down as he looks around them panicked. 

“Wolves?” Bofur goes to stand near the hobbit and Nysa tenses, hearing something shuffling in the leaves above her. “No, that is not a wolf.”

Suddenly something growls from behind them and Nysa barely dodges the outstretched claws of yet another new monster as it lunges for her. The beast cries out as Thorin sinks his sword into its chest and he looks as if he’s about to say something when Nysa grabs him by the collar and rolls with him out of the way of a second beast. 

Kili sinks an arrow in its neck and Nysa jumps to her feat, running her sword across the artery on the other side before the beast falls. 

“Warg scouts!” Thorin yells, back on his feet and brandishing his sword warily as he looks over the company. “Which means an orc pack is not far behind!”

“Orc pack” Bilbo looks almost as troubled as Nysa feels by the news and makes way for Gandalf as the wizard bustles over to Thorin, leaning down to face down the dwarf king.

“Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?”

“No one.”

“Who did you tell?!”

“No one, I swear! What in Durin’s name is going on?” 

Nysa feels her hand taken and looks down to give Bilbo a small reassuring smile and squeeze. 

“You are being hunted.” sighs Gandalf. 

“We have to get out of here.” Dwalin comes forward, sword brandished and glaring at the dead Wargs. 

“We can’t!” All eyes are drawn to Ori as he casts forlorn eyes to where they were about to head. “We have no ponies. They bolted.”

“I’ll draw them off.”

“These are Gundabad wargs.” Gandalf says, brushing off Radagast’s reply with a shake of his hand. “They will outrun you!”

“These are Rhosgobel rabbits.” Radagast says with a glint in his eye. “I’d like to see them try.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The planes they run across leave Nysa feeling more exposed than any other part of their journey so far, the only cover being jagged outcroppings of rocks and the briefest of bushes. The company runs as fast as they can, the mocking cries of Radagast as he leads the orc pack on a wild toucan puffin chase. 

Nysa’s legs burn as she heads the group, right beside Gandalf as he leads them twisting and turning over the plane. It seems like he’s looking for something but they don’t have a chance to ponder. 

“Ori!” Nysa’s cry is echoed and she just grabs the young dwarf in time to pull him behind an outcropping before the orcs see him. Dori grabs his brother’s hand and they’re running again. 

Nysa looks back occasionally to make sure Bilbo is keeping up and she reminds herself to thank Kili later as she sees the dwarf prince keeping the hobbit ahead of him. 

“This way!” Gandalf makes another abrupt curve and Nysa bites back a curse as she dives around a boulder she was half past. 

They’re about to cross another outcropping when Nysa’s gut tugs so harshly she almost gags and she grabs Gandalf’s arm, forcing the wizard back behind the rocks and slams her arm out, stopping the company abruptly behind her as she points above them with wide eyes. 

Sure enough there’s a growl and Thorin casts her a look that seems almost grateful before he looks to Kili and nods. 

Kili nocks an arrow and takes a breath before stepping back and letting his arrow fly. It embeds itself in the wargs head and he’s quick to loose another, this one hitting the orc astride it in the chest and both fall before the company. 

But they aren’t that lucky. The orc isn’t yet dead and it screeches as Oin and Bombur sink their axes in its neck but it’s too late, their location has been revealed. 

“Move! Run!” Gandalf takes off first and Nysa is close behind, still glancing back to make sure the number of heads is still 14. Gandalf makes to split across another open spot when a warg leaps to it. 

“There’s more coming!” 

“Kili shoot them!” Thorin pulls to the front and looks around hurriedly to no use. 

Kili looses arrow after arrow and each time an orc falls but more just pour over the hills. 

“We’re surrounded!” cries Fili, sword clutched in his hand and Bilbo pushed behind him. “Where’s Gandalf?!” 

That’s the moment Nysa realises she’s lost sight of the wizard and she snarls as she pulls her blades from her back, twirling them in her hands as she readies for battle. 

“He’s abandoned us!” 

“Hold your ground!” Thorin orders and everyone tenses as the orcs draw neared before a new voice cries out. 

“This way you fools!” 

Gandalf is behind a rock not 10 meters from them and the company quickly follows as he ducks behind the rock again. 

Thorin stands atop the rock Gandalf ducked behind and counts the company as they slide down the rock face below. A growl pulls his attention and he turns in time to see Nysa sink both blades into the head of a warg, mere inches from his face. 

The look they share lacks time and she runs past him to kill another as it aims to enter the tunnel. 

Thorin’s gaze is drawn as he hears an orc cry out and his heart slams in his chest as he sees Kili, still twenty or more meters away as a warg creeps up behind him. 

“Kili!” 

Red flashes past Thorin and Kili looks back with wide eyes, lowering his bow as he runs for the tunnel. Nysa’s lungs burn as she throws herself sword first into the warg nearly on top of Kili and once he’s out of range she puts all her breath into a fireshield, blooming across the plane and growing larger and larger, throwing back the wargs drawing close. 

Nysa turns and runs, eyes wide as she sees Kili still standing at the entrance, his hand outstretched to her. 

“Jump!” 

Flames lick the entrance of the tunnel and Nysa grunts as her back hits the smooth rock face hard, her hand tight in Kili’s as they slide down together, caught by Dwalin and Thorin at the bottom and quickly pulled to their feet as they keep their weapons drawn, facing the mouth of the tunnel.

A horn sounds from somewhere on the plane and moments later a body rolls down the rock face falling still at their feet. Thorin wrenches the arrow from the orc’s skull and looks at Gandalf with no small amount of venom in his voice as he spits the word; “Elves.” 

Nysa sighs and backs into one of the walls breathing heavily. Her flames had been rushed and she was still tired from barely sleeping the last two days and the effects were coming to kick her in the chest. 

She hadn’t even realized she was still gripping Kili’s hand until his hand came to rest on her shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” his eyes searched her for injury and she waved him off her hand, though not yet letting go where both of theirs intertwined. 

“Just need to rest soon,” Nysa groaned and pushed off from the rock. Nysa rocked on her feet as blood rushed through her ears and she felt the adrenaline that had been pushing her through the last burst of running fading fast. 

“Nysa? Are you sure? You don’t look too-NYSA!” 

Kili barely caught her before she hit the ground and his eyes widened. Her skin was scorching and her breath coming fast, a deep furrow set between her brows. 

“Gandalf!” 

Kili set his bow over his shoulder and pulled Nysa fully into his arms, surprised that she was even lighter than he expected and he couldn’t hold back his sound of concern. 

“Kili! What on earth happened?!” 

Gandalf and the rest of the company had started to follow the tunnel but on Kili’s cry of alarm, Gandalf, Bilbo, and even Thorin had hurried back. 

“Oh- Nysa! What- what happened?!” Bilbo pressed his hand to her forehead and yelped as he pulled it back pink and stinging. Kili thanked Mahal for the ability to stand heat as he held Nysa close. 

“I don’t know, she couldn’t seem to catch her breath and then she just collapsed!” 

Gandalf hovered his hand over her chest and Kili frowned as the wizard muttered something in a language he did not know. 

“Well Gandalf?” Thorin looked to the wizard as he pulled his hand away with a frown. 

“I would guess exhaustion but something else stirs within her, something I do not know. We must hurry and bring her to the elves, Lord Elrond possesses healing abilities beyond any other in Midde Earth.” 

Thorin frowned but nodded anyway and turned to his nephew. “Can you carry her Kili?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ok, then we must hurry. I’ll not have her death be on my hands should it come to pass,” 

Kili frowned at his uncle’s harsh words but he also saw the genuine worry in his eyes as he cast one last glance at the unconscious girl in Kili’s arms before he continued forward. 

The descent to Rivendell was steep and Fili stayed in front of him - along with the endlessly fretting Master Boggins - as Kili made his way down, careful not to disturb Nysa in his arms. 

Kili tuned out the greetings between the grey wizard and the elf that came to greet them, his gaze held only by Nysa as she groaned in his arms. Her temperature seemed to increase and even his fire resistant dwarf skin soon flushed from the heat of her skin but his grip only tightened, especially when a group of elves astride massive horses circled the company. He felt the eyes of the Elf Lord on him as he clutched Nysa to his chest and he only let his glare fall when she moaned again in pain. 

Kili’s worry grew tenfold when the sweat on her brown turned to steam and he interrupted his Uncle without thought. 

“Indeed, he made no mention of-”

“Uncle! Please, her skin is like fire! She needs help!” 

Thorin took a glance at the girl in his arms and folded quickly as he too saw the steam rising from her body and the way the skin of Kili’s arms grew pink where his skin touched hers. 

“Has she been wounded?” Lord Elrond turned his focus to Kili as he reached a slow hand to the Nysa, drawing his hand back quickly as he felt the heat radiating off her body. 

“We must bring her to the infirmary, hurry!” 

Kili looked to Thorin and with one last glance at Nysa, he nods and Kili rushes after the elf lord.


	9. Nysa's Dream and the Company of Dwarves

When Nysa opens her eyes she recognizes immediately where she is. She’s back on the platform at the Sun Warrior temple and Ran and Shaw are beside her and when she looks up she sees the face of her mother. 

“So, you’ve made your choice.” 

It feels like her words are stuck in her throat so Nysa just nods. 

Mother smiles at her and holds a hand out to her, waiting for Nysa to take it before resting her other hand over it. 

“I cannot say I did not hope this would be your choice. You use your flames to protect others and to aid you in the days to come I will give you this gift.” 

Nysa gasps as she feels heat travel up her arm from where Mother cups her hand and it feels as if the flame inside her roars, fiercer than ever. Nysa draws her hand away and lights a small flame in her palm and it dances across her skin a brilliant white. 

“May your flame burn hotter and brighter than ever before. Along with this gift I also give you,” Nysa flinches and her eyes widen as what looks like scales shift beneath her skin. “dragon skin. It may not be hard as dragon scales but not flame shall ever burn you.” 

Mother smiles at Nysa and steps back, Ran and Shaw roaring as dragon fire billows around them. “You will see me again, Nysa. When you have completed this quest. Whether you succeed or fail, you will have tried and that is all I would ask of you. And when the time comes, you will discover your last gift on your own.” 

Dragon fire consumes the world and when Nysa wakes again she sees a white ceiling and a head of curly chestnut hair beside her. 

~~~~

It takes a moment for Nysa to try and speak and her voice cracks when she does. 

“Water- I need...water,” 

“Nysa!” Bilbo jumps to his feet and quickly passes Nysa a large cup of water, holding the bottom with one hand still as he helps her drink. 

“Nysa, my dear, you gave us all quite a fright!” Gandalf smiles at her from the corner of the room. 

Nysa grunts as she raises herself to her elbows and then slowly sits up, Bilbo’s small hand on her shoulder as she does. 

“Nysa I thought I told you to never do something like that to me again! It has been three days and I shan’t think of what crazy things you will tell me this time but I’d quite like if you’d inform me before the things happen again!” 

Nysa can’t hold back her fond smile as she pulls Bilbo into a hug that sends the hobbit sputtering for a moment before he sighs and wraps his arms around her. 

“I’ll try not to do it again Bilbo and I promise, if I know, I’ll tell you.” 

Bilbo seems satisfied enough with that answer and smiles at her before looking towards the door. “I believe I shall go and tell the company that you’ve awoken. They’ve all been very anxious for news,” 

“Yes, I think that would be a good thing to do. Make sure you reassure poor Kili that she isn’t dying no matter how many times he’s asked.” 

Bilbo tuts and Nysa reaches for the cup again as he leaves the room, Gandalf quickly crossing the room to pass it to her. 

“Now, what pray tell, was this all about Nysa?” 

Nysa finishes draining the cup with a gasp and leans forward, nearly tilting before Gandalf rests a hand on her shoulder for support.   
“Dehydration and a visit from my Mother,” 

“Dehydration? Yes well, I suppose that makes sense. You must burn through water quite quickly with all that firebending. I suppose you should take a long soak when you’re quite well enough to as well just for good measure.” 

Nysa sighs and flops back onto the bed, already feeling the strength return to her limbs as she nods. 

A cough from the entrance of the room has Nysa drawing her eyes to a man nearly taller than Gandalf wearing robes that look like royalty and some kind of circlet on his head. His ears are also pointed but after getting over the shock of Hobbit ears Nysa doesn’t bother to be surprised. 

“Ah, Lord Elrond. What excellent timing. Nysa my dear, this is Elrond, Lord of Rivendell and the elf who kept careful watch over you as you slumbered. He is also my very good friend and I believe his council might aid you in not only our quest but also your life here in Middle Earth.” 

“And what do you know about me, Lord Elrond?” 

“Only what I have observed about you, Nysa Firebender. That you are not of this world and you have a flame within you that burns eternal. Tell me, what is it you dreamt of that your spirit left your body but you were all the while quite alive?” 

Nysa looks to Gandalf, uncertain, but she feels no pit in her stomach nor pull in her gut and it’s been right so far so she decides to trust him. 

“I dreamt of the Mother of Fire. The Mother of Dragons and all those gifted with a piece of the eternal flame. She’s asked a favor of me in return for my second chance at life. I’m sure you saw the scar that marks me on either side,” Elrond nods and Gandalf raises an eyebrow but says nothing. He had seen the front of the scar and it doesn’t not surprise him that it was the mark that ended her life. “I took that scar in place of a Dragon and she wants me to save another one. Smaug.” 

Lord Elrond can’t hold back his startled look and he takes a seat on the other side of Nysa’s bed as she sits up. 

“She doesn’t want me to save his life, just his spirit. He was once a beautiful dragon who guarded the northern skies, but something dark in this world poisoned him and now he’s lost his heart. He no longer breathes true dragon fire. She doesn’t want his spirit to stay trapped in the darkness and for this she’s given me life and gifts with it.” 

Nysa lifts her hand and feels before she sees the white flames that dance across her fingertips and again Elrond gasps. 

“My fire burns stronger than ever and my skin will never be burnt. Her gifts are great, I only hope they’re enough for me to survive this world and save Smaug’s spirit.” 

“Well that is-” Elrond cuts himself off with wide eyes and he looks between Gandalf and Nysa for a solid moment as he takes a deep breath. “I find myself without words for the first time in longer than I can remember. I believe your quest is good and I wish you luck in seeing it to the end.” the elf lord stands and bows his head. 

“I offer you the safety of my home, should you ever need it, and I welcome you to Rivendell and Middle Earth.” 

“Thank you, Lord Elrond.” Nysa presses her hands in respect and bows back as he exits the room. 

“I believe you will have company quite soon, Nysa, and I believe I will go speak with the amusingly startled Lord Elrond in the meantime.” 

Nysa nods and true to his word, Gandalf leaves just as a great burst of noise descends upon the room. 

“Nysa!” Kili is the first to burst into the room and Nysa almost smiles at the relief on his face as he takes her hand. The rest of the company isn’t far behind him and Nysa does find herself going a bit wide eyed as everyone speaks to her at once. 

“Alright alright! Everyone calm down! We’re not giving the lassie a moment to speak!” Balin steps from the fray and takes her hand from Kili, holding it between his own as he smiles at her. “Mistress Nysa, it is good to see you well. We were all quite worried when Kili came running out with you in his arms all but dead to the world.”

Nysa’s eyes flash to Kili and he’s pointedly looking away but his ears are pink and her lips curl, the tug in her gut back but softer and a little warmer this time. But confusion pushes her grin down. 

“You were worried?”

“Ay lass! We ‘bout broke in here twice, everyone of us, when they didn’t let us see ya,” Bofur pipes up, grinning widely at her. 

Nysa looks over the company of dwarves, even Thorin seems relieved to see her alive and well, and she frowns in confusion. “I didn’t think any of you would care,”

Her voice is quiet but not nearly as the room becomes as her words settle over the company. 

“D’ya think so lowly of us, lassie?” Dwalin frowns from his place beside Thorin who wears a troubled look as he gazes down at the floor. 

“No,” Nysa shakes her head and brings her hands together in her lap. “But most of you don’t seem to like me that much. I’m not new to being avoided or ignored so I don’t mind it, I just didn’t want to intrude.” 

Nysa’s frown deepens as the silence prolongs, troubled faces stirring around her. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude. Really, it’s ok! I just don’t want you to force yourselves to worry or be nice to me.” 

“Nys-” 

A throat clears in the doorway and Nysa is beyond grateful for the distraction, uncomfortable with the attention on her and the inability to name the emotion that plays across the faces of the dwarves around her. 

“I- I think she needs to check me over…..” 

Nysa leaves the implication in the air and she’s never seen the company as quiet as they are when they leave the room, Kili lingering to throw her a look that she still can’t read before he shuts the door behind him. 

The female elf in front of her smiles gracefully. “No check over is needed unless you wish for one but I can lead you to the bathing room if you’d like.” 

Nysa sighs and smiles slightly in relief. “Yes please.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Thirteen dwarves sit around a fire in the courtyard that’s been leant to them to stay in after the refusal of rooms. All is silent except the crackling of the fire and it’s been that way for some time until a voice breaks it. 

“Can we really blame the poor girl?” Balin looks at the mixture of sadness and guilt on the faces around him. “She sleeps on the edge of camp because none of us would lay a bedroll beside her. She eats away from us mostly nuts and berries because no one offers to fill her bowl. She sits away always on boulders on trees because we offer her no space to sit with us. She hid her powers from us but you saw how Gandalf spoke to her, d’ya really think he did not warn her to hide them until we trusted her? Or at least her us? And how could she! We’ve not shown her a reason to! She saved our lives from those trolls with no weapons and naught but the very power we shunned her for right after!” 

“It’s not as if she’s tried to gain our trust either!” Thorin barks. 

“Ay, but that’s not true Thorin!” Bofur stands from his spot and looks over the hung heads of his kin. “I know I’m not the only one who’s noticed her always taking up the rear, always has her eyes scanning around us. She took out that warg scout by the troll hoard before half of us even noticed!” 

“And she stopped me from running into those orcs outside the mountain pass!” Ori chimes in. 

“She’s the one who’s kept the fires going all night. Have any of you ever woken up cold since we left the Shire?” Bombur nods. 

“I’m pretty sure she’s the one who dried all our bedrolls off after we trekked through that deluge. We’d laid them out and went to bathe and it should have taken hours for them to dry but they were warm and fluffy as the day we left by the time we got back!” rounds of agreement pipe up as Fili adds. 

“She asked what a troll is.” 

Silence falls again and all eyes turn to Dwalin as he gazes into the fire. “That little lassie has never seen a troll in her life and she didn’t hesitate for a moment before she risked her life against three of them. She even kicked us off the spit in the middle of it and when it was all over she turned to the hobbit and asked him what the ‘monsters’ were.” 

The silence grows and even Thorin’s face falls as they all digest the real depth of what he’s said. 

“She’s never seen a troll, or a warg, or even an orc and yet each time we’ve gone into battle she’s stood by us with that same blank face we’ve scorned her for and risked her life beside us. And what have we done to show our thanks? Pretended we didn’t hear her wake up gasping? Or crying in her sleep? If she should turn her back on us and stay in this place there’d not be a bone in my body that’d blame her for it.” 

Dwalin walks away from the fire and silence falls again on the company of thirteen dwarves.


End file.
